


First Comes Love

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child AU, Childhood, Crushes, Kid Fic, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6755902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe where Jim is a single-parent and Spock is a child doctor. <br/>Written for a prompt by appleschloss on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Comes Love

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this!   
> Thank you appleschloss for the prompt!

David’s legs dangle over the floor. He swings them around, kicking the air and watching his shoes go up and then down. Up, down. Up down, up down.

“You alright there buddy?” his dad leans in and smiles at him.

David nods, although he’s really not alright. His skin itches and burns and he keeps rubbing his arms and legs but the itching just won’t go away. Somehow, his dad knows this: sometimes it’s like his dad knows everything.

“Don’t worry,” dad says, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a kiss on the forehead, “the doctor will be ready any minute now, and he’ll know exactly what to do.”

David feels a little better. His dad is a scientist, after all, and scientists are good at telling you what’s going or not going to happen. David remembers sitting in the lab one day when his dad was working on a project, watching all the computers and instruments. He remembers liking the little sounds they made. It was almost like music, like the machines were singing. And then one of the computers chirped, and a voice said ‘Professor Kirk?’, and his dad said ‘Kirk here’. ‘We need your help in Stellar Cartography, sir,’ the voice said. ‘I’m on my way,’ his dad nodded, and David remembers feeling very proud of his father.

He’s reminded everyday of how awesome his dad is. Just this morning, while walking into the doctor’s waiting room, a lady with dark eyes and a beautiful smile stopped them. ‘Uhura!’ his dad yelled, like he was surprised to see her, and he probably was. ‘Jim Kirk,’ she shook her head, like she didn’t really believe it was him, and maybe she didn’t. They talked about grown-up things for a while, about new assignments and a new girlfriend and how space travel was easier these days. Then Uhura turned to David and smiled again. She had very nice teeth, like little pearls or the white beads David likes to put in his hair. ‘Is this little David?’ she asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer, ‘your father is a great man, kid,’ she added, and David wanted to say ‘I know’, but he didn’t because the lady was too beautiful and he was too shy.

Right now, thinking about how great his dad is almost makes the itching go away. And besides, even if it doesn’t go away, the doctor will know what to do. David relaxes into his chair and reaches out to hold his father’s hand.

“You’re doing a great job, buddy,” his dad says.

Just then, the doors to the doctor’s office swoosh open and the nurse comes out. David knows she’s a nurse because of her light blue uniform. She looks like summer: her hair is soft and golden, like the sand on the beach, and her eyes are blue and shiny like the water in the sea.

“David Kirk?” she asks, and her voice reminds me of the sun on his skin.

“That would be us,” his dad gets up, and David jumps off the chair and follows him.

“Doctor Spock is ready to see you,” the nurse tells them. She ruffles David’s hair as they walk past her and into the office – it feels like an evening breeze brushing his head. 

The doctor’s office isn’t very big, but it’s very tidy. The floors are all white and clean, the walls are a pretty shade of blue and there are interesting things hanging on them: a feather in a glass box, a painting, the holo-image of a desert… but what attracts David’s attention the most is a little gold triangle cutting through a grey circle. It looks so special, hanging over the doctor’s desk, just in the center of the wall, like it’s the most important thing in the room. He points at it.

“What’s that, dad?” he asks.

The voice that answers him is not his dad’s. “That is the IDIC:  _Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination_ , symbolizing the elements that create truth and beauty.”

David and his father both look up and watch the man who has just walked into the office from a door in the back. He’s very tall, and his hair is very black, and his ears are very pointy. David gasps.

“Are you a Vulcan like Professor T’Kar from the spacelab?” he exclaims a bit too loudly.

The man crosses the room and sits at the desk. “I am not familiar with this Professor T’Kar, but your observation is correct, I am Vulcan.”

Just then, his dad seems to come to life, like one of those very old devices they have in their collection back at home called ‘cuckoo clocks’. “Doctor Spock,” he says, nodding politely, “I’m Jim Kirk and this is my son David.”

David notices how his dad doesn’t reach his hand out for Doctor Spock to shake it, the way he does with all the other grown-ups they meet. He wants to ask about it but he knows it might be impolite, so he pushes it into the part of his mind that remembers things for later.

“Take a seat,” Doctor Spock says, gesturing towards the two chairs that seem to be waiting for them in front of the desk.

David climbs onto one of the chairs and his dad sits down on the other. They both wait in silence as the doctor runs his fingers over his PADD for a minute.

“How old are you, David?” Doctor Spock finally says, putting his PADD down and looking at David from under two sharp Vulcan eyebrows.

“I’m six,” David answers, feeling a tiny bit intimidated by the doctor’s serious tone of voice.

“Then you are old enough to answer my questions,” Doctor Spock is looking at him the way he’d look at an adult, and David looks back, and suddenly the doctor isn’t that intimidating any more.

“Of course I am,” David fills up his chest with air and tries to look taller.

Doctor Spock reaches across his desk and grabs a tiny round object. He walks over to David and moves the tiny object over his head. It makes a funny little noise. “What is the problem?” he asks.

David looks at his dad. The whole situation is a bit confusing: other adults normally talk to his father first. No one ever asks David the important questions. It’s scary but in a nice way, like that tickly feeling you get in your stomach before going on a ride in the amusement park.

But dad isn’t looking at him; he’s looking at Doctor Spock, and his eyes seem like they’re a lot bigger than usual. David almost wants to laugh: he feels like he’s the one in charge now, but only for a few minutes. He wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

“My skin is red and itchy everywhere,” he says, trying to sound serious and Grown-Up.

Doctor Spock makes a low rumbling noise in his throat and puts the tiny object down. “When did you first notice these symptoms?”

David tries to figure this one out. “What’s a _symptom_?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.

“It is a warning sign that your body gives you to indicate that something is wrong,” Doctor Spock says as circles his desk and grabs his PADD again.

“Oh,” David understands now, “The itching started on Chicken Sandwich Day,” he states matter-of-factly, and it sounds very professional, very Grown-Up.

But something unexpected happens then. His father, who has been quiet so far, coughs. And then he coughs again. David can tell it’s a fake cough. He looks at his dad, who has turned very red, like a big Earth tomato. And then his dad speaks, and his voice sounds a little shy, but also a little too soft. It sounds like he’s trying hard to hide something.

“Three days ago,” he tells Doctor Spock, and it’s a bit annoying, because David is six! He can handle this; he doesn’t need his dad to explain everything for him!

Doctor Spock nods quickly at his dad and then looks back at him. “You mentioned a chicken sandwich. Do you have any known allergies to the ingredients of this sandwich?”

David puffs up his cheeks. “I don’t think so,” he shrugs.

Doctor Spock notes something on his PADD, and David lifts himself up a bit on his chair to try and read it, but he can’t make out the letters on the screen.

“The logical course of action now is to run more tests,” Doctor Spock says, “does that inconvenience you, David?”

David isn’t sure what ‘ _inconvenience_ ’ means, so he tries to look cool and says, “No problem”, because that’s what Uncle Bones always says and Uncle Bones is the one who wins all the holo-games and gets the best slice of pizza on Pizza Day.

“What are these tests, Doctor?” dad says nervously, “and how long are they going to take?”

“I will need to run a full epidermal scan to determine the source of the problem,” Doctor Spock doesn’t really look at dad; he just says things in dad’s general direction, “It will take approximately 6.8 minutes.”

“Alright,” dad sighs, “I’m a bit worried. The itching really won’t stop, and those little red spots all over his body…”

“Worrying is illogical, Mister Kirk. I am a doctor, I will make sure your son is in good health,” Doctor Spock says, and although David knows that Vulcans are different from Humans, he feels like there’s something very gentle in the doctor’s voice, like grandma when she’s singing to her plants.

His dad seems to feel it too, because he smiles. “Thank you.”

And suddenly Doctor Spock looks up at dad, and their eyes meet, and David thinks that he shouldn’t be there, that he should leave them alone or go talk to the nurse who looks like summer or something.

~

The tests are easy, and they don’t take too much time: all David has to do is sit still and wait for Doctor Spock’s instruments to scan him. It’s fun because even after the tests are done, Doctor Spock lets him touch the machines and tells him how they work.

His dad looks nervous the entire time. David wants to hold his hand and tell him everything is going to be alright, like a real adult, but he thinks maybe that’s going a bit too far. After all, he doesn’t want to be a real grown-up. Not yet.

When the scans are finished and the results show up on the computer screens, Doctor Spock types something on his computer and then he just stares at the screen for a while. It makes dad twitch and squirm on his chair.

“Don’t be stressed out,” David whispers to his father.

“There is no reason to be ‘stressed out’,” Doctor Spock says, and David feels ashamed that his whisper has been heard, “the results are… fascinating. But not alarming.”

“What is it?” dad says, shifting on his chair.

“The skin rash and blisters are symptoms of an infection with varicella zoster virus,” Doctor Spock says, and his eyes are travelling from David to his dad, “Primitive humans called the disease _Chickenpox_. The virus itself disappeared from Earth around the end of the twenty-first century.”

“Well then how did David catch it?” dad asks, his eyebrows furrowing and wrinkling his forehead.

“It is possible that the virus is not indigenous to Earth – or at least not exclusively,” Doctor Spock answers dad then turns to David, “Have you recently been to a newly discovered Federation planet?”

David shakes his head. He’s getting bored now that all the tests are done, and all he really wants is for the itching to stop. “My mom goes to new planets all the time,” he tries.

“His mother is a Starship Captain,” dad says, and David feels a little proud, but also a little angry and very sad, and his mind is about to go wander near the Mom Memories when he sees something that attracts his attention.

Doctor Spock’s eyebrow twitches. It’s quick, but it’s definitely there; a very small twitch, like he wants to frown but something is holding him back. Dad is still talking.

“But he hasn’t seen her in years – she’s on a five-year mission in deep space and, uh, we’re separated,” dad is hesitant, almost like he’s shy of saying these things but he also really wants to say them. “We’re separated,” he says it again, a bit more confidently this time, nodding and looking at Doctor Spock carefully.

It happens again. The doctor’s eyebrow twitches and something in his eyes changes: David can tell, because he’s watching closely, and he knows that even though Doctor Spock isn’t smiling, he’s pleased with what he just heard. The twitching continues as he holds his PADD up and asks, “Divorced?”

Dad’s eyes change too. There’s a tiny small creeping onto his face. “We were never married.”

There’s a moment of silence after that where everybody seems to be waiting for something to happen. When nothing does, David says, “I wish the itching would stop,” and he starts rubbing his legs with both his hands.

“Do not touch the spots,” Doctor Spock orders him, and David stops immediately, “your skin will only get more irritated.”

“You said it isn’t dangerous?” dad asks.

“No, it is not,” Doctor Spock replies.

“And the treatment?”

“There is no known treatment. There was a vaccine, but it has not been used since the virus’ disappearance. The symptoms usually do not last more than ten days. However,” Doctor Spock pauses and looks at David, “the disease is highly contagious. David, you will have to be quarantined.”

“What does that mean?” David asks, and he’s kind of scared now.

“It means you have to stay far from other people for a little while, buddy,” his dad explains.

“Even from you?”

Dad looks up at Doctor Spock, and they both stare at each other, and then Doctor Spock gets up. “Your father and I shall stay with you,” he says.

Hearing those words makes everything feel better. Even the itching.

~

The next few days are exciting. Although he stays inside the same room the whole time, David is never bored – not one second.

On the first day, the nurse who looks like summer gives him a room – it’s not very big, but there’s a soft bed and a huge holo-projector in the middle. Doctor Spock and his dad have to get hypospray injections called ‘vaccines’. The doctor says it’s so they don’t catch the disease. After that, the two of them spend a lot of time talking about grown-up things, but David doesn’t mind because he has his favorite holo-novel with him.

He also watches them as they talk. He likes watching people talk; he can tell a lot by the way a face moves, or a lip curls, or an eyebrow twitches. So he watches, and he sees very funny things: Doctor Spock’s eyes are suddenly not very still, they move around the room like they’re trying to run away from something; dad’s eyelashes keep fluttering like butterflies in a field when David tries to catch them; they both sway a little on their feet, and it looks like they’re dizzy.

Later that day, the nurse that looks like summer joins them. She has to get a vaccine too.

David learns that her name is Christine and that she’s a lot of fun. She even plays holo-games with him. His dad and Doctor Spock are still talking, so David keeps a close eye on them. He notices that his father is smiling a whole lot more than usual.

That night, dad tucks him in and gives him a kiss on the forehead. He even stays with him until he falls asleep.

On the second day, Doctor Spock gives him pills to make the itching go away and tells him ancient Vulcan stories. His dad listens closely.

On the third day, David feels weird. He can’t get up and the room is always way too hot or way too cold. Doctor Spock says he has a fever.

“Where’s dad?” David asks, because his father knows how to make him feel better.

“He has not yet arrived,” Doctor Spock says.

David doesn’t speak for a few seconds. Everything seems a little less nice all of a sudden – even the images on the huge holo-projector don’t look as beautiful as they did yesterday. The windows are letting in a lot of sunshine. David is annoyed at the sun for being out when he’s stuck inside. He starts rubbing his arms then remembers that he’s not supposed to. It’s all so frustrating.

“I hate dad,” David declares, crossing his arms over his chest.

Doctor Spock sits on the bed beside him. “I am certain that your statement is incorrect. Why do you say this?”

David is angry at everyone and everything. He wants to be mean; he wants to rub his spots just to upset Spock and Christine; he wants to blame his dad; he wants to say cruel things. “Because he’s not here when I need him,” he pouts, “and I’m not incorrect. You’re incorrect.”

 “Your father is a hardworking man. He is a single parent and one of the federation’s most prominent scientists. It is only logical that he requires rest. You must not be so hard on him.”

And suddenly it all makes sense: the smiling mouths, the gleaming eyes, the twitching eyebrows. David feels like he’s made a Great Discovery. But he has to make sure, so he curls his feet up, puts on a very serious expression and looks Doctor Spock straight in the eye.

“Are you in love with my dad?”

Doctor Spock’s face turns so green it starts to look like a watermelon. It’s so funny that David has to pinch his nose so he doesn’t laugh.

“Are you?” David insists.

“You should not be asking such questions,” the doctor tries to look severe, but it isn’t very convincing.

“That means you are, doesn’t it?” David bounces up and down on the bed impatiently.

All at once, eyebrows twitch and lips tremble and hands shake and Doctor Spock pushes himself off the bed like he’s about to run away and leave David all alone. That is not what David wanted.

“I’m sorry!” he says quickly, because he knows that saying ‘sorry’ is step number one when you want to take something back, “I won’t ask any questions anymore. Just don’t leave me.”

Doctor Spock closes his eyes and puffs air out of his nose. “I will not leave you, David,” he says softly, and for some reason it sounds like a promise.

~

For the rest of the day, they sit there watching holo-cartoons and playing games. Spock tells David about Vulcan mind melds, and David immediately wants to try.

“We cannot attempt a mind meld now,” Doctor Spock says.

“Why not?” David whines.

“Because you are ill and because you are too young.”

“Can you try it with dad when he gets back?”

Doctor Spock’s ears go very green and he looks away for a second. “I am not certain – it is not logical for people to engage in mind melds for no particular reason.”

David shrugs. He knows for sure now that Doctor Spock likes his father: he behaves exactly like Doctor Aisha from the space lab – she blushes and gets all shy when someone mentions Professor Tina, and she doesn’t like it when David teases her by singing ‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G’.

All the signs are there.  It’s probably time for dad to know now. And David has a feeling that it would make his father very happy to know this.

~

“Doctor Spock is in love with you.”

Dad almost spits his coffee all over the holo-projector. “What did you say?”

“He didn’t tell me himself: I guessed,” David announces proudly.

Dad sighs. “Listen, David,” he puts his coffee mug down on the table near David’s bed and leans in, “these things are… complicated.”

“No they’re not, it’s easy: you just give him a card that says ‘I love you too’ and then you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff.”

“You can’t fall in love with someone you’ve only known for a few days,” dad raises his eyebrows.

“It’s been a week!”

“Even a week.”

“What about crushes? You told me that people can get crushes real quick.”

Dad smiles a bit. “Okay, you got me there.”

“Well?”

“Well?”

“Aren’t you going to tell him?”

“Tell him _what_ , David?” dad frowns.

“That you have a crush on him!”

Dad purses his lips and reaches out to ruffle David’s hair. “No buddy, I just can’t do that.”

~

It only takes three more days for David to fully recover from _Chickenpox_. He likes the name a lot, so on the last day Christine gives him a little chicken plushy and he covers it with red spots.

When it’s time to leave, David hugs Christine hard.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers into her hair.

She hugs him back. “You can visit any time, dear,” she gives him a light squeeze and kisses him on the cheek before letting go.

He looks over to his dad and Doctor Spock. They’re facing each other, awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. David wants to roll his eyes at them.

“Thank you very much for your help, Doctor Spock,” dad says, smiling softly.

“It is my duty, Mister Kirk,” Spock bows slightly.

“Please, call me Jim.”

“As you wish… Jim.”

There’s something hanging in the air, something sweet and sticky that looks a lot like love to David. So when Doctor Spock turns towards him to say goodbye, David rushes forward and hugs the Vulcan’s waist.

“Thanks for curing my _Chickenpox_ ,” he says.

Doctor Spock’s hand very slowly pats David’s head. “There is no need to thank me; I am a doctor. That is my job.”

David deftly slips a piece a paper into Doctor Spock’s pocket before pulling back.

~

Two days later, David is at home, reading a story on his PADD, when his dad walks into his room.

“Dave,” he squints, “Doctor Spock just called on subspace. He told me he’d be visiting the lab tomorrow and that he’d appreciate it if we gave him a tour. He also said that it has something to do with a promise.”

David shrugs, although it’s a bit hard to hide his smile. “We should probably go.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?” dad replies suspiciously.

David bites the inside of his cheeks. “Nope.”

“Hmm. I thought so.”

“So are we going?”

“I don’t know –”

“We have to!”

Dad is trying to hide his smile too now. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jim and Spock   
> sitting in a tree,   
> K-I-S-S-I-N-G.  
> First comes love,  
> then comes marriage,  
> then comes baby  
> in a baby carriage!


End file.
